


Not When You're Here

by fennecfawkes



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 21:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fennecfawkes/pseuds/fennecfawkes
Summary: Because both Kevin Keller and Moose Mason deserve a happy ending. Or beginning.Not my characters.





	Not When You're Here

“We should talk about this.” Kevin makes a move toward propping himself up on his elbow to look at Moose—and he’d call Moose by his given name, were it any less ridiculous than Moose, but it’s _Marmaduke_ , and Kevin doesn’t like dwelling on the fact that he’s sleeping with someone who shares a name with a famously unruly cartoon Great Dane—but decides against it. It’s easier if he stays here, on his back, Moose a few inches away, his residual body heat keeping Kevin warm but not stiflingly so. Kevin knows if he looks Moose in the eye for a moment too long, they’re not going to end up talking about anything, reduced instead to animalistic groaning and maybe the occasional breathy whisper, especially if Moose is feeling particularly punch-drunk. (He’s the one who whispers. Kevin thinks some people might be surprised by that. Kevin’s sure _many_ people would be surprised by ... well, all of this.)

“Hm?” Moose drags himself closer to Kevin, throwing an arm over his chest. When Kevin doesn’t push him away, Moose drapes his leg over both of Kevin’s and nuzzles Kevin’s neck, his laugh coming out like a huff when Kevin scoffs and says, “You’re impossible.”

“You’re not complaining, though,” says Moose.

Kevin sits up just enough that Moose’s arm falls away and looks down at Moose—one step forward, two steps back, given the expression on Moose’s face, so clear-eyed and affectionate that Kevin hates himself for how much he loves to see it.

“It’s—look. Moose. I like you. Against my better judgment, I like you a lot.”

“What’s your better judgment saying?” Moose asks.

Kevin sighs. “It’s saying this wouldn’t be happening if you—do you have any idea how hard it is to say it out loud?”

“Of course I do,” says Moose, looking wounded. “Midge was my girlfriend. We weren’t doing too good when it happened. We were kind of breaking up, actually. But I loved her. And I miss her. And I don’t know if you’d be here if she were. You know.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” Moose lifts his hand and runs his thumb along Kevin’s jawline. “I think about her. Every day. But not—” He repositions himself, surging upward just enough to brush his lips against Kevin’s. “Not when you’re here.” He kisses Kevin again, and Kevin lets himself sink into it. Certainly, this thing they’re doing began as a grief hookup _(Moose pushing him against the tiles in the bathroom before asking if Kevin wanted to go somewhere else, Kevin finding himself saying that yes, he very much would, Moose’s car far exceeding the speed limit as Kevin tried not to look at him, Moose fumbling to unlock the door, Moose pushing Kevin against the nearest hard surface once again, this time the wall on the landing that led to the stairs that took them to Moose’s room, the two of them practically falling onto Moose’s bed together, limbs entangling, kissing frantically, tugging at each other’s clothes and rutting up against each other till the inevitable, Kevin wondering what just happened and Moose looking at him almost shyly, despite the utter debauchery of what had transpired)_. And certainly, Kevin’s still sorting through his guilt and Moose’s sadness and what that means for the two of them in the long term. But it’s not top of mind when Moose is kissing him. Moose is a good kisser, the best Kevin’s encountered, though Kevin hasn’t mentioned that and he’s not sure if he will, lest Moose get a big head over it. On top of that, though—and this is more important, and this blows Kevin’s fragile mind every time he thinks about it—in these moments, the quieter ones, the ones after they’ve just woken up or had a conversation without poking fun at each other, Moose kisses Kevin like he’s precious. Delicate. Like it’s a privilege for the two of them to be together. Maybe Kevin’s soft, but that’s what’s keeping him here. Moose isn’t much for masking his emotions, and that’s never truer than it is in the bedroom.

Moose rolls onto his back and pulls Kevin with him. He looks up at Kevin and his lips curl into a smile.

“I like you a lot, too,” he says. “In case you couldn’t tell.”

“I had an inkling,” says Kevin.

“Smartass,” Moose mutters as he loops his arms around Kevin’s neck and arches upward hopefully. Kevin leans down, closing the distance between them.

“I don’t suppose you want to shut me up,” he says against Moose’s lips. As it turns out, that’s exactly what Moose seems to want to do, and that’s when Kevin decides there’ll be plenty of time for more talking later.


End file.
